


A Feather in the Wind

by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Angst, F/M, I Made Myself Cry, Inappropriate use of Stark Tech, M/M, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Not A Fix-It, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has PTSD, Peter Parker is a Mess, Pining, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Survivor Guilt, Time Travel, Tony Stark Feels, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG/pseuds/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG
Summary: He really shouldn't. He has no business knowing these things, he's proven that he's too impulsive with things this powerful.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 29
Kudos: 90





	A Feather in the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> I should really continue working on the Hot For Teacher series.  
Instead I wrote 6k words of pure angst in three days. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> [Translated into Russian by PetCheetah11](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9347068)

When Peter blinks awake on the day he turns 21, he lies in bed for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. 21. A real adult. He ought to feel different, shouldn't he? More mature, more like he actually gets… _it_. Whatever it is.

Instead, he feels tired, and hungry. So nothing new on this oh so momentous day.

E.D.I.T.H. chirps at him from where she rests on his nightstand, and he fumbles blindly until he can grab her. "Good morning, Peter," she says pleasantly. "Happy 21st birthday."

"Thanks," he replies, scratches his fingers over his scalp. "Any news I need to know about?"

"You have one new message. Would you like me to play it for you?"

Peter is about to say no, he'll look at it later, until he remembers that basically no one knows how to message him via E.D.I.T.H., except Fury, Hill and Sam, and so he thinks it must be Avengers business and says, "Sure, play it. Who's it from?"

"Tony Stark."

* * *

If Peter had to describe the emotion rushing through him at that announcement, he'd probably call it terror. Pure, unbridled terror, because all he can think of is the broken Iron Man suit crawling out of the ground, shrouded by green mist, and he can't breathe, he can't focus, he needs to…

"Peter, you are having an anxiety attack. Please listen to my voice and count with me. One, two, three…"

It takes him a while to calm down, to let go of the bed sheets he's been gripping as if his life depended on it. There's a tear where his left hand was, one that wasn't there before, and he stares at it for another minute as he waits for his racing heart to slow down.

When he finally thinks he's ready (which he isn't, he's so very much _not_ ready), he says, "When was this sent?"

"Mister Stark recorded it on October 15th, 2023. He programmed an automated delivery for the day you legally turned 21. As you did not age during the Blip, that day is today."

Peter's mind is whirring, going through the many ways this does not make sense. Did Mister Stark anticipate that no time passed for the people who had disappeared? He can't have. But that's the only explanation.  
"Okay. Well. Play it, then."

"Please place me on your nightstand. It is a holographic message."

The bottom drops out of Peter's stomach. He could have handled a voice message. Easy. He hears the man's voice all the time, he's still everywhere, with documentaries and memorials on at all hours of the day, even four years later people are still celebrating his legacy.

But seeing him, not quite in the flesh, but still there before him? Talking to Peter directly, something he has never heard before?

No, he's not ready for that _at all_.

Nevertheless, he pulls E.D.I.T.H. off his nose and sets her carefully back on the nightstand, taking a deep breath.

"Playing message," E.D.I.T.H. says, as though it was no big deal.

Peter blinks, and when he opens his eyes again, there is Tony (because he can't think of him as Mister Stark any more, not really, not after spending so much time with Morgan and Pepper, and fuck, it _hurts_), and immediately tears well up in Peter's eyes. The man looks exactly how he did during the battle at the compound. A little older, a little wearier, but undeniably Tony.

Tony, who smiles at him, and says, "Hey, kid."

* * *

"I have no idea if you'll ever see this," he almost mutters, like he's talking to himself, before he looks back up at the camera, smiles again. "I'm hoping you never will. Or maybe we're watching it together, laughing over how much of a worry wart I can be." The smile fades a little, turns sad almost, and Peter feels tears dripping off his chin and onto his chest.

"The thing is… I haven't got the foggiest if this is gonna work. Time travel." He lifts his eyebrows, laughs, and Peter feels like someone has taken his heart in their hand and squeezed with all their might. "I mean, if anybody was gonna figure it out, who else would it have been," Tony asks, gesturing at himself with a wink. "But that begs the question of, 'what now'. Who will have access to this?"

There's a lump in Peter's throat, a coldness in his chest. "No," he whispers, "no, you didn't."

"I'm pretty sure S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to try and get their hands on this, should it work, which is why they absolutely _can't have it_." He's looking straight at Peter, expression as serious as Peter has ever seen him. "I could destroy it. Just delete everything. But I know how important all of this could be one day." He licks his lips, presses them together. Runs a hand over his face. "We both know what's out there. What we're facing." Tony's eyes turn soft, and Peter feels a sob stuck in his throat. "I'm sorry for putting this on you, Peter. You shouldn't have to… You should enjoy college life, dating, or whatever it is young people do these days. But you're the smartest person I know, and I trust you. I trust you to do the right thing should the time ever come."

Peter wants to scream.

"So anyway, let's hope you never have to see this," Tony continues with a smile that attempts to be cocky but turns out painfully tugging at the corners of his mouth. "E.D.I.T.H. will show you the way." He winks again. "Just don't do anything I would do. See you around, kid."

And then he's gone again.

* * *

Peter sits there for a good ten minutes, crying silently, staring at the spot where the hologram was. There are a million thoughts running through his head but one is louder than all the others.

_I could go back._

Immediately followed by, _No, that's not how it works_, and that sounds too much like Tony.

"Peter?" E.D.I.T.H. sounds about as worried as an AI is probably capable of, and that pulls him from his stupor.

"I'm okay," he says, even though he's really not. "He… Mister Stark said you'd show me the way?"

"If you put me back on, I will be able to unlock the files Mister Stark left for you."

He really shouldn't. He has no business knowing these things, he's proven that he's too impulsive with things this powerful.

But Tony wanted him to have this, to be able to use it should the need arise. He can't have known that the first idea that would pop into Peter's head is to go back and save the man, even though he knows that that's not how time travel works. Or maybe he did know. It doesn't matter.

"Show me," he says as he slips the glasses back onto his face, and starts to read.

* * *

Peter hardly leaves his room for two days. His desk is a mess of notes scribbled on legal pads and take out containers, and he could really do with a shower, but Jesus Christ on a pogo stick.

Fucking _time travel._

And as much as he wants to, he can't shake the thought of going back. It's constant, like an itch at the back of his mind. The possibility of having Tony back, that's like dangling candy in front of a child.

Honestly, what was the man thinking?

Finally, Ned puts his foot down after not seeing hide nor hair of Peter for those two days, dragging him from his room and unceremoniously shoving him into the bathroom. "Shower, then we go eat something." He gives Peter a look. "And then you're gonna tell me what dumb Avengers shit is going down."

The waiter at their favourite Thai place has barely turned away from the table when Peter blurts, "I got a message. On my birthday."

"That's what's gotten you in this weird funk?" Ned raises his eyebrows as he picks up the menu. "Who was it from?"

Peter swallows around the lump in his throat and says, "Mister Stark."

He knows the look that appears on Ned's face, has seen it a thousand times in the last couple of years. It's a look that spells pity, and empathy for poor Peter and his Quentin Beck-induced PTSD. Something Peter very much does not want to think about.

"Look, I know how it sounds. But I'm not imagining it." He pulls E.D.I.T.H. from his pocket, shoves her into Ned's hands. "Here."

Ned looks down at the glasses, then back at Peter. "I don't need to see it, Peter. I believe you," he says, and Peter hates that he listens for the waver in Ned's voice that tells him he's lying. "What did it say?"

He breathes, deeply. "Remember the time travel part of reversing the snap? Mister Stark left me everything. How to build the machine, everything he had on Pym Particles, which admittedly isn't much, but… I could build a time machine, Ned, and I'm _freaking the fuck out._"

Ned looks at him with wide eyes for a long moment, before he launches into a series of questions.

He'd need help with the Pym particles, his friend surmises. "Mister Stark didn't know how to make them and I doubt Mister Pym is gonna give them to you."

That really only leaves Peter one option, if he wants to go through with this.

* * *

Who does he think he's kidding, he's absolutely going to do it.

* * *

"You want me to do _what_," Scott asks, incredulity plain on his face. Peter is just glad neither Hope nor Cassie are home. Hope would confiscate E.D.I.T.H. faster than he can say 'not S.H.I.E.L.D. sanctioned'.

"I'm not gonna use it. Not now anyway. But Tony wanted me to have this, wanted the Avengers to have access to it."

"Why doesn't Fury make an official request to Hank?"

Peter looks at him flatly. "Have you met either of them?"

"Eh. True." He shrugs. "But I have a feeling that's not all this is about, is it?" His tone is knowing, and Peter fidgets.

"What else would I need it for?"

Scott gives him a long look. "Peter, look, I... I understand," and Peter's stomach plummets. "I don't know everything about what happened between you and Tony but I know he was important to you. I understand why you want to do this. I really do." He clasps his hands in front of him. "But this isn't how it works. You're a billion times smarter than me, you know that."

There's no use denying it, and so Peter says, "I don't want to change things, I know I can't." A lie, because he really, really does want to change things. "I just… I need to say goodbye. I never… There was no time." He holds up E.D.I.T.H. "But now I can. I can go back and thank him." He's not above cheap tricks, so he says, "Don't tell me you wouldn't do it if it meant you'd get to see Cassie grow up."

"That's low, man," but Scott is smiling. "Ah, whatever, what's the worst that could happen."

* * *

Peter finds an email from Scott in his inbox the next day, not so subtly titled 'Arthropods gotta stick together', complete with a winking emoji. Inside there are photos of Hank Pym's formula.

With E.D.I.T.H.s help, getting into the new compound's tech floor is no problem at all, and the time GPS is automatically assembled by the time Peter finishes synthesizing the Pym particles. Choosing a date is harder. He settles on the 14th of October, a day before the message was recorded. Everything had already been set into motion, so Tony won't be that surprised when Peter shows up. Hopefully. He enters the date and coordinates into the time GPS and takes a deep breath.

There's no going back now.

* * *

The journey through the quantum realm is a trip and a half. When Peter materialises, his ears are ringing, and for a moment he thinks he's going to throw up, a feeling that only intensifies when he looks around.

Tony's and Pepper's cabin.

Peter's heart is hammering in his chest, so hard he can feel it in his throat. The last time he was here, he watched Tony's first arc reactor drift away on the lake, and he thinks of all the people who left in the meantime. Thor, gone who knows where with the Guardians, Scott and Clint more or less retired, Captain Marvel out saving the universe probably, Wanda…

There's not a lot of active duty Avengers left, and sometimes it's more responsibility than Peter can bear.

He walks up onto the porch, hands fisted tightly by his sides. He can hear voices from inside, Morgan up in her room singing to herself, Pepper on the phone with someone, and then…

"I can't do this," he breathes, "I'm so not ready," but then he lifts his hand and knocks sharply, twice. Holds his breath. There are footsteps coming closer, and then the door swings inward, and Peter thinks he's going to pass out. He's simultaneously happier than he's ever been, and in so much anguish he wants to scream.

Tony stands there, one hand on the doorknob, staring at him, at least six different emotions racing across his face in rapid succession. Then he says, "FRIDAY, am I having a stroke?"

"Not that I can detect, boss," the AI replies, and Peter realises he missed her, too.

Tony blinks, takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes and keeps them that way for five seconds. When he opens them again, his nose twitches, and if Peter wasn't this close to vibrating out of his skin with nerves, he'd muse on how rarely he's seen the man speechless. Finally Tony takes a step closer. "Peter?" His voice cracks on the second syllable, and Peter swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, nods. "It…" Tony clears his throat, and Peter is pretty sure the man's eyes weren't this dewy a second ago. "It works?"

"It fucking works," Peter says, grinning, and Tony's mouth twitches up in something resembling a smile.

"Language," he says, almost absent-mindedly, and then he's reaching for Peter, his fingers twisting into the fabric of Peter's hoodie and pulling him closer, and Peter is reminded, painfully, of how the man hugged him after the Blip, in the midst of the chaos that was the battlefield. The sky had been falling around them, and Tony had hugged him like his life had depended on it.

Not that it had helped.

Peter, in turn, wraps his arms around him, and finally allows himself to cry.

"God, you're _back_, you're really here, I can't believe, I mean I can, I came up with this, also are you taller, you feel taller," and fuck it, a grown man babbling like this should not be as endearing as it is. Peter lets the chatter wash over him, his mind too busy cataloguing everything about this moment, until Tony pulls back so he can look at Peter. He's crying, too, but smiling, and then he's cupping Peter's cheek. "Jesus, look at you!"

"Who's at the door?" Pepper, her footsteps coming closer, and Peter panics.

"She can't know I'm here," he says, quietly, disentangling himself from Tony's embrace as he wipes at the tears running down his cheeks. The man is reluctant to let him go, and Peter feels a little like dying as he pulls away.

"Go to the garage, I'll be right there," Tony says before he turns back, wiping at his face. "Somebody asking for directions. Why people don't invest in proper GPS I will never understand."

Peter jogs across the small strip of lawn over to what he assumes is the garage, smiling to himself as he looks down at the wristband of the time GPS.

* * *

The garage, it turns out, is a scaled down version of Tony's workshop, every available surface filled with Stark tech. There's even an old car hidden under a tarp in the corner, and Peter is hit by a powerful surge of nostalgia as DUM-E chirps at him happily. Him and Tony didn't work together a lot, both of them busy with… well, life, but the time they spent adjusting his suit remains one of his best memories.

Tony bursts into the room ten minutes later, out of breath and eyes a little wild, and he says, "I was sure you'd be gone."

Peter shakes his head. "Not yet, no."

Once the door closes behind Tony, they just stare at each other. Peter files away all the little details about this version of Tony that he never got to see on the battlefield. There's more grey in his hair. More lines, both from worry, between his eyebrows, but also laugh lines around his mouth. He's dressed in what Peter thinks of as 'dad chic', all soft fabrics and knitwear. It's a good look on him.

Tony, meanwhile… Well, he just looks at Peter as if he's the second coming. Which, Peter supposes, is not untrue in a sense.

"How… Where do you come from?" He motions at Peter, a sweeping motion encompassing him from head to toe. "You're clearly not 16 any more."

"I wasn't 16 when I vanished, Tony," and he notices his 'slip' when Tony's eyes widen a little. "I've been around Morgan a lot. And Pepper. Can't call you Mister Stark when talking to your child."

"You know Morgan?" And fuck, the absolute joy on Tony's face cuts Peter to the quick.

"Yeah," he breathes. "She's great. Really smart, surprising no one."

Tony smiles, pride shining in his eyes. "I mean, obviously." His face sobers. "I was thinking about this, you know. Leaving this," he gestures at the time GPS, "to you." He steps closer, away from the door, and Peter finds himself moving forward as well, like Tony is a magnet drawing him in. A very apt description, he thinks. "So where, or when, are you from, Pete?"

"2027," he says, when they're only a few feet apart. "Just turned 21, adjusted."

Tony nods. "So you don't age while you're gone?"

Peter shakes his head. "It was… like passing out. I woke up and… you weren't there any more. And then Doctor Strange-" He cuts himself off. Should he be telling Tony any of this? Probably not.

"Ah, come on, kid, you know that's not how time travel works," Tony says with a smirk. "You're not changing anything. You're gonna go back to your time and everything will be the way it was when you left, and all I know is that it works."

Peter's face falls, and he can feel tears welling up in his eyes again. That's the whole problem. He will go back and Tony… He turns away and walks over to a work bench, blindly picks up some small instrument. He's not gonna cry, not again, he got what he wanted, didn't he?

Tony is quiet for a long moment, and then he asks, "I die, don't I?"

It's like a bucket of ice water has just been poured down the back of Peter's hoodie. Tony can be oblivious at times, but then he's too observant a second later.

"Peter," he says, softly, and Peter bursts into tears. Big, heaving sobs, and he buries his face in his hands, tries to stifle the sounds he's making because fuck, how much more pathetic can he get? This is not what he came here for, he had a whole speech planned, he…

Arms close around him, holding him, Tony's breath warm against the side of his face as he says, "It's okay, kid, it's okay," and Peter wants to scream, no, it's _not_ okay, it's _never_ going to be okay, not when Tony had to die and leave Pepper and Morgan and _him_.

"I know it's a possibility," Tony is saying now, his thumb drawing gentle circles where he's holding Peter. "But here's the thing: every time I put on the suit, my death is a possibility. That's the super hero life. I accepted that a long time ago."

Peter is angry all of a sudden. Angry at the unfairness of it all, yes, but also angry at Tony. He steps out of the circle of the man's arms, brushes off the hands that follow him. He wants to throw something. "I had to watch," he says, deceptively quiet, "Pepper, too," and he feels like shit for saying these things. They're true, sure, but is it worth seeing the pain in Tony's eyes?

"Did anybody else die?"

Peter doesn't know what to say. Back to the whole 'how much am I allowed to say' problem. "One other person," he finally whispers, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as he thinks about the look on Captain Rogers' face when Peter had asked about Miss Romanoff, and Tony reaches up, wipes them away with his thumbs.

"Then it's worth it."

Peter deflates, his anger evaporating in the face of Tony's calm acceptance.

* * *

Tony steers him to a little sofa, presses him down with a firm hand on his shoulder. He goes to fetch some tissues from a drawer, and Peter watches, still crying quietly. He doesn't want to miss a second, needs to commit everything to memory.

When Tony has handed him the tissue box, he sits next to him, arms flung over the back of the sofa. "So tell me about your life," he says, with an attempt at casual that Peter sees right through.

He doesn't want to tell Tony anything, he realises. He doesn't want to give him more reason to be stupidly brave. "I'm going to university now," he says anyway. "MIT. Apparently there's a scholarship with my name on it," and he smiles softly when Tony shrugs.

"Guilty as charged, your honor." He grins. "What else? Got a girlfriend?" When Peter shakes his head, he cocks an eyebrow. "Boyfriend?"

Peter goes fire engine red and looks at his shoes. "No."

"Pete, I'm the last person to judge anybody for their sexuality."

"I know, that's not…" He rubs his hands over his face. He can't possibly tell the man he's been nursing a crush on him for years, and that dating had turned into a game of 'doesn't compare to Tony Stark, next' once Peter and MJ had realised they worked better as friends.

When he looks back at Tony, the man's face is soft with fondness, and Peter feels like he's been punched in the gut. All of a sudden he regrets ever coming here, because this? This hurts more than he could have imagined. "I should probably go."

Tony's face falls, and his hand twitches where it rests on the sofa behind Peter. "Already? Come on, kid, it's been five years, throw an old man a bone here."

Peter crumbles. He dissolves into tears yet again, and again Tony pulls him into his arms. Through his sobs, Peter blurts, "I m-miss you s-so _much_," and Tony's arms tighten around him.

"I missed you, too, Peter." He's quiet for a moment, then he says, "I wasn't going to do it, you know? Build this thing. Didn't even want to attempt to figure it out, because I was too scared I'd lose all the good things I have now. That I'd lose Morgan." He sighs. "Steve and Natasha came here, with that ant guy. I hadn't seen Steve in… I don't even know how long. Years. I was still _so_ angry with him, and I sent them away. And then… I was doing the dishes, yes, go ahead, laugh at me all you want," he throws in, smiling, when Peter snorts a surprised laugh at the mental image, "anyway, I was standing in my kitchen. This close to losing my shit entirely." He squeezes Peter's shoulder. "You remember those pictures we took, for the internship? One of them is right there, by the sink."

Peter is holding his breath. He didn't know Tony actually remembered that day, that it was this important to him.

"I looked at your face, and I could feel you slipping away again. Could hear the things you said before you vanished." Tony swallows, voice thick now. "That's what made me try. I realised I had to bring you back."

Peter sits up, even though moving out of the man's embrace feels awful. He wipes at his face and nose with a tissue, tries to calm his racing heart. Then he breathes, "You did it for me?"

There's that soft smile again, with that same fondness from before. "Saving half the universe played a role, too, but.. Yes, Peter. For you."

It's a mistake, Peter knows even as he moves forward, back into Tony's space, as he kisses him, but he can't stop himself. He only catches the corner of the man's mouth as Tony flinches back with a surprised noise, his goatee prickly against the soft skin of Peter's lips, and then there are hands gripping Peter's shoulders and pushing him back gently. Tony is staring at him, eyebrows furrowed, and Peter half wants to disappear again.

"Peter," Tony breathes, in that tone of voice that speaks of a gentle letdown, and Peter scrambles back, off the sofa and to his feet.

"Oh _God_, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was _thinking_, I'm…"

"Peter," Tony repeats, voice harder now, and Peter stops, shuts his mouth. There's a whimper stuck in his throat because he needs to apologise, scratch that, needs to undo it, but he somehow manages to stay silent. Tony, meanwhile, sighs heavily as he runs a hand through his hair. "Look, I... I know I'm not the most observant sometimes. But I can see you're not okay." He looks up at Peter then, and Peter trembles under his gaze. "What happened to you?"

Peter bites his lip. He considers not telling him, but then he says, against his better judgment, "I've been in love with you for years," and the way Tony sucks in a breath hurts to hear. "I had a crush since I was like, 13. And then I actually met you and… I swore to myself I'd never tell you because I know it's _wrong_ and I didn't want to burden you with this, but then you _died_, and I felt so guilty because I couldn't save you." He hardly draws breath, the whole thing flowing out of him like a dam has broken. Tony just sits there, silent and wide-eyed. "And then there was this guy who we thought was a superhero and he reminded me so much of you but he was lying to everyone, he wasn't a hero at all and I gave him E.D.I.T.H. and he hit me with a _train_ and almost killed me and I…"

"Wait, hold on," Tony interrupts, "who was this guy? How did he know about E.D.I.T.H.?"

"He used to work for you. Quentin Beck," and oh, Tony recognises the name, judging by his expression. Peter's lower lip trembles. "He could have asked for anything, and I think I would have given it to him," he says, quietly, before he meets Tony's eyes. "_Anything_," he breathes, all too aware of what he's implying.

Tony is very still for a long moment, and Peter fidgets, his nerves fraying. Finally, Tony says, "I'm sorry, Peter. I should've... I should've been better, more present, helped prepare you better, you were a child-"

"Stop that," and fuck, now he's yelling. "I wasn't a child when you asked me to fight Steve, was I?" Tony looks stricken, and Peter squares his shoulders. "I'm not a child now."

"No," Tony murmurs, "you definitely aren't."

Peter draws in a breath and turns, walks towards the back door. "I need some air."

* * *

He climbs up onto the roof covering the back porch (who has a porch on their garage anyway? Rich people, Jesus Christ) and lies on his back, staring up at the canopy of trees. He's angry, and aware that he had no right to snap at Tony like that.

Why did he tell him those things? He swore he'd never put them into words, and now it took no effort at all from Tony for him to spill his deepest, darkest secrets like they were nothing. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he mutters before he takes a deep breath.

He gets why Tony liked it here.

Likes.

Whatever.

The back door of the garage opens after a little while, and he can hear Tony's footsteps on the porch, then down the stairs. Leaves crunch beneath his feet. "Peter? Where are you," and fuck, his voice is tinged with fear, fear that Peter is gone again.

"Up here," he says as he sits up, lets his legs dangle off the side of the roof.

Tony walks a bit further, until he can look up at him. "What are you doing up there?"

"Just… thinking I guess." He pushes himself forward, hops down so he lands next to Tony. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's fine." He shifts, moves his weight from one foot to the other. "Love makes us stupid," he says, quietly, before he looks at Peter. "I won't pretend you didn't say those things. I believe you. And I love you, Peter, I want you know that." Peter can see the 'but' coming, and he curbs the impulse to close his eyes. Instead he fixates on all the little microexpressions Tony makes when he says, "But not like that."

"I know that," he replies, rubs his hands over his face. "I am painfully aware, which is exactly why I never wanted to tell you. Still don't know why I did, to be honest."

"Because this is your one chance," Tony says, and it feels like a punch in the gut. Peter huffs a laugh, a dark thing that sounds like it's been forced out of him.

"Is it? I mean, I have a time machine, don't I?" Tony looks up at him sharply at that, and Peter ducks his head. "I'm kidding, I won't…" He shuffles his feet, desperate to run all of a sudden. "I should go."

Tony looks like he wants to argue. Instead he asks, "Why did you come here, Pete?"

Peter scuffs the tip of his shoe into the dirt, draws a line, a circle. "I wanted to thank you," he says, finally, "for everything you did for me." He looks up, smiles. "I wanted to say goodbye."

Tony looks stricken at that, like he is about to cry again. "Well. You don't have to thank me."

He shrugs, shuffles closer. "I know, I just… I thought this would help me close the book on everything." Again, he laughs, harshly. "So much for that genius plan."

"Anything I could do to help," Tony asks, face contemplative.

"Could you-" Peter snaps his mouth shut, his brain catching up before he has the chance to say the stupidest thing up to this point, but of course Tony doesn't let it go.

"I invented time travel for you, I don't think there's anything you could ask for I wouldn't agree to," he says with a smile that aims to be cocky but misses by about a mile.

Peter stares at the floor. He should keep his mouth shut, should just leave now, but with Tony looking at him like that, his defenses crumble, and he breathes, "Would you kiss me? Just this once?"

* * *

The silence following his question is oppressive, and again Peter wants to take it back. Of all the times to let his mouth get away with him.

"Peter," Tony says, finally, and Peter squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, forget it, it was a _stupid_-"

There's a warm hand cupping his cheek all of a sudden, and his eyes fly open. Tony is right there, so close that Peter could count the silver hairs in his beard.

"Tony, I..."

He can't decipher the look in Tony's eyes, no matter how hard he tries. His brain is short-circuiting as Tony draws his thumb over the arch of his cheekbone, so gently that Peter feels like crying yet again.

Then Tony leans down and presses his lips to Peter's, and Peter's mind goes completely blank.

It's soft, gentle, and so, so sweet.

When his lips part, mostly out of surprise, Tony licks inside, and Peter whimpers, his hands coming up to fist in the soft wool of Tony's sweater. In response, Tony hums softly, and a thrill shoots through Peter, the kind of swooping sensation he gets when he's swinging and he's at the top of the arch, right before he's about to fall. Because this is what this kiss feels like - like falling, and not being afraid of it.

It's everything Peter has ever wanted, and it makes his heart break all over again.

When Tony pulls back, Peter almost chases after him, stopping himself through shear willpower. He expects awkwardness but Tony just smiles, oh so sadly, as he runs his fingers through the hair at the side of Peter's head, as he lets his hand travel down his neck until it comes to rest on his shoulder.

He doesn't say anything, and Peter takes a step back until Tony has to take his hand away, clears his throat. "Thank you," he says, mentally laughing at himself for how pathetic he is.

"Promise me something," Tony says instead of acknowledging his thanks. "Don't live in the past, Peter. I know it sounds clichéd and 'old man yells at cloud'y but… You have your whole life ahead of you. You're brilliant, and handsome, and one of the best men I have ever had the privilege to know. Don't waste your life mourning me."

Again, Peter's first impulse is to argue, but he knows better. It won't help, it won't change anything. "I won't," he says instead. Something occurs to him, something he hasn't thought of at all until now. He may not have affected his own timeline, but he did change things - for this Tony, and by extension, this version of himself, and so he says, quietly, "Don't… don't treat him differently. He doesn't know what to make of these feelings yet, he'll just be so happy to see you're alive," and of course his voice cracks, and he doesn't resist when Tony pulls him into his arms again.

"You'll be okay, kid," he murmurs against the crown of Peter's head, "you'll figure it out, I promise."

After what feels like years or maybe seconds, Tony releases him again, and Peter wipes at his eyes and takes an additional step back. Tony's eyes are moist, regret and heartbreak mirrored back at Peter.

"Goodbye, Tony," he whispers, and punches the time GPS. The suit envelops him, and he smiles at the look of wonder flickering over Tony's face for a second, before he feels himself start to shrink.

* * *

When he materialises back at the new compound, he falls to his knees and screams.

All the rage and pain and guilt he's held in these four years comes out of him in that scream, and it seems to just go on and on and on.

There's a hand on his shoulder, and he jumps, his mouth snapping shut, ready to fight, but he stops short when he realises it's Scott. Scott, who looks worried and guilty at the same time. "You okay, Peter? Are you hurt?"

Peter loses his balance, falls flat on his ass. "I… No, I'm, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," and shit, of course. Hope steps up onto the platform behind Scott, her arms crossed in front of her chest and a look of stern disapproval on her face. "Please tell me Scott got his wires crossed and you didn't actually do what he said you did."

Peter says nothing, and that tells her everything she needs to know.

"I hope it was worth it," she says, sympathy shining through even under her disappointment.

Peter lets Scott pull him to his feet before he tugs off the time GPS and places it in Hope's palm.

_No_, he thinks as he leaves the room, their eyes following him, and it feels like there's a hole where his heart ought to be, _it wasn't._

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "[All Of My Love](https://genius.com/Led-zeppelin-all-my-love-lyrics)" by Led Zeppelin


End file.
